


satisfaction

by seakicker



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Body Worship, Cheating, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Doggy Style, Established Relationship, F/M, Face-Fucking, Female Ejaculation, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Masturbation, Netorare, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise, Praise Kink, Riding, Squirting, not that it matters really, nude apron, seakicker be like 80 kinks for the price of one fic, secret crush on both ends if you squint, sylvains cock is just built different im sorry unnamed husband san, wow i forgot how much i fucking wrote in this, youre married to unnamed man and sylvain is a homewrecker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:14:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28518456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seakicker/pseuds/seakicker
Summary: Your husband isn't very good at satisfying you. Sylvain knows this, and insists he can satisfy you far better than your husband ever could.Needless to say, he's right.
Relationships: Sylvain Jose Gautier/Reader
Comments: 30
Kudos: 199





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> if [fictional] cheating bad then why sexy? also known as: sylvain doing what sylvain does best: cheating
> 
> ive had cheating/cuckolding fics mulling around in my brain for months but i am very shy when it comes to writing ideas sometimes............... took me like 3 whole years to finally write a damn stomach bulge fic. Anyways this is not the last you'll see of seakicker's cheating escapades 
> 
> the idea is that youre married but your husband, in true cishet dudebro fashion, is bad at sex, doesnt even eat you out, and doesnt care if you cum or not during sex. sylvain, however, is built different. he Guards. That. Pussy. he makes you cum <3
> 
> obviously if cheating turns you off dont read this, cheating is all it is. to everyone else... stream homewrecker by marina and the diamonds rn. also, when i say that sylvain is THE king of dirty talk, i say it with my whole entire chest because he is the king of talking dirty. honestly writing his dialogue makes me really horny.... what writing dirty talk does to a MF

Of course, sex shouldn’t make or break a relationship, as an actual human connection is more important than orgasming, but when you hardly have the former, the latter is the _least_ you should be able to get out of your husband.

Some of your friends have talked before about boyfriends they’ve had that have either been assholes or just wholly and frustratingly uninteresting as people, but they joked that they stuck with them longer than they should have simply because the sex was so good. You, who had little experience with boyfriends or girlfriends and sex in general prior to your marriage, had found it confusing that good sex was enough to offset a nonexistent or strained human connection to a significant other. 

However, as you make your way into your fourth year of marriage to your husband, you’ve since started to find credence in your friends’ casual jokes. You would be able to put up with your only _slightly_ boring marriage if you were able to get some good sex out of it. You had felt ashamed and embarrassed with yourself when you first realized that, one, your marriage is somewhat uninteresting, and that, two, the sex is _bad._ You’ve only been married for about four years, so there shouldn’t be any reason why you’re already feeling the boredom of the fabled seven-year itch, and it certainly shouldn't be because your sex life is cripplingly boring… right?

Your husband isn’t exactly a _bad_ man — he’s kind enough, works hard at his job, and buys you gifts on your birthday, but he’s wholly uninterested in your pleasure in the bedroom. You’ve tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, as you haven’t exactly voiced what you like (though perhaps this could be attributed to the fact that you’ve never been shown what you may like because your husband doesn’t bother to try things differently from time to time), but you would have expected your husband to at least _ask_ if you’d like to try anything new or different. After all, you’ve asked him what he likes and you’ve asked him if he had wanted to try new things (which would explain half of the lingerie costumes in your dresser), so shouldn’t be able to return the favor?

Your best friend, Sylvain, who has been listening to your sexual woes since before you and your husband got married, agrees. 

“Can’t the guy at least _ask_ what you’d want to try? I’m sure you’ve got plenty of things you want to try,” Sylvain says with an incredulous look on his face. “He sure seems to be full of new ideas.” You can’t help but chuckle at his reaction as you pour him another cup of coffee. 

“I’m serious!” Sylvain laughs. “You’re a cute girl. What kind of guy _wouldn’t_ want to try every last thing in the books with a girl as fine as yourself?”

“Oh, Sylvain, enough,” you dismiss him as you set the mug down in front of him. Sylvain’s always been flirty, both with girls in general and certainly with you, but he hasn’t held back since you’ve gotten married in the slightest. Of course, granted, you’ve never put your foot down and told him to stop, so who could blame him for continuing to flatter such a beautiful girl? 

You would _never_ admit it to yourself, but you’ve always liked Sylvain’s attention — he compliments you and showers you in praise far more than your husband does. You’ve actually started to send Sylvain pictures of you in new dresses and tops before you send the pictures to your husband, because while your husband may just reply with a _“looks lovely, dear”_ , Sylvain never fails to send paragraphs of compliments in response. Perhaps you won’t admit it because you think that enjoying Sylvain’s attention is its own form of cheating, but Sylvain has told you that there’s nothing wrong with taking and appreciating a compliment. Of course, he’s biased as the one praising you, but he isn’t wrong there… it isn’t wrong for you to be looking forward to what Sylvain has to say about your newest outfit before you even send him the picture, right?

Sylvain has _always_ been quick to praise you, true to his womanizing nature, but who could blame him? When you send him pictures of you in short little dresses and low-cut tops asking _“how does this look on me?”_ how could he hold back his sugary words? Especially when he’s always harbored some secret feelings for you. What kind of man could hold himself back when his sweet little crush sends her pictures of her in tight-fitting tops and dresses with cutout slits running down the thigh? What kind of man could resist such forbidden fruit: a beautiful, sexy, and surely _sexually frustrated_ housewife showing off her body innocently in lovely little outfits?

“Hey, if the guy can’t appreciate you, at least let me appreciate you,” he says before taking a sip of his coffee, eyeing you over the rim of the mug. “It should be a crime for pretty girls like you to end up with boring guys like him. Every other guy I know has been praying for a wife like you since middle school; myself included.” 

Surely, you must be blushing, and you can’t help but feel guilty that another man’s words are making you blush like a schoolgirl experiencing her first crush. It’s just so nice to hear some praise, considering your husband surely fails in that department. 

“Oh, you know he’s a nice guy,” you reply, referring to your husband. 

“'Nice guys' don’t let their wives go to sleep without coming,” Sylvain says, raising an eyebrow. “If I ever let a girl fall asleep without coming first, I would be mortified. Your husband _does_ know that you’re supposed to enjoy it too, right?”

You don’t say anything, you only look down at your own mug in your hands and shift in your seat. You’re not sure how to reply. 

Sylvain prods you further. “Alright, tell me how many times he’s made you come in the past week or two.”

You swallow hard, embarrassment setting in on your cheeks in a deep blush. “I- We haven’t had sex since my birthday two months ago.” 

Sylvain lets out an incredulous laugh, and he nearly spits out his coffee in the process. 

“You’re joking, right? Say you’re joking, babe,” Sylvain says, eyes wide. You shake your head. 

“He’s been busy with work,” you continue. “His manager asks him to stay overtime during the weekdays, so when he comes home at night, it’s often past midnight and he’s tired. He doesn’t even eat dinner sometimes.”

“Man, not only does he not take the time to appreciate your cooking, he can’t even get you off?” Sylvain asks. If any of this were to come from any other guy, it would be grossly invasive, and you would never be venting about your sex life to him in the first place, but you’ve known Sylvain since high school, so you trust him — he may be a flirty playboy who’s quick to remind you how beautiful you are, but he hasn’t made any advances on you since you’ve gotten married, so it’s fine, right?

“He works hard for me,” you say, voice quiet. “He means well.” 

“I can’t look past a guy who’s oblivious to his wife like that,” Sylvain says with a sorry sigh. “He doesn’t know how lucky he has it. He has a _gorgeous_ — and I do mean gorgeous — wife who’s always making him dinners and doing his laundry for him, and what does he give her in return? Bad sex?”

Sylvain leans forward, resting his elbows on the table and looking directly at you. 

“I don’t remember if I’ve asked you this or not before, or if you’ve already told me, so I’ll ask again. Does he, you know,” he says, wondering if his question is too invasive, even for him and the close bond he has with you. “Eat you out?”

You shake your head, only slightly. Sylvain almost doesn’t catch it. 

“He never has,” you reply, occupying your hand by fiddling with a strand of your hair and clutching the handle of your mug with your other hand. “But, I’ve never asked him to, so it’s not his fault.”

“You shouldn’t have to ask him for oral,” he says. “Isn’t that, like, expected? And besides, what guy _doesn’t_ like eating pussy? It’s fantastic. Really, the guy should try it sometime, for his sake and yours.” 

You can’t help but laugh at that before you take another sip of your coffee. 

“Okay, okay. Do you give him oral?” Sylvain asks, though he’s sure he already knows the answer. 

You nod, and Sylvain can almost feel himself get angry on your behalf. He knew your sex life was rough, but God — you can’t even get oral reciprocated?

“I do it for him all the time,” you admit. “When he comes home stressed from work, he’ll ask me to, and then he’ll go take a bath or go to bed afterwards.” 

“Without returning the favor?”

“Nope,” you reply, and you’ve never been so embarrassed in your entire life. All of this sounds a _lot_ worse when you actually say it than when you try to rationalize all of it in your head. It also serves to show you that you’re far more sexually frustrated than you thought. Not only have you not had sex with him in about two months, you’ve also never gotten to experience oral in all your years of knowing your husband.

Sylvain is silent for a moment, only looking at you as you blush and shift uncomfortably in your seat. 

“Jesus,” Sylvain groans, finishing off his coffee with one more sip. “You know, baby, if you were _my_ wife, I’d eat you out for hours each day.” 

You immediately look up at him, at a complete and utter loss for words. “Sylvain!”

You meant for it to sound more scolding and shocked, but it only comes out as a gasp of slight surprise. He holds his hands up defensively and only offers you a sly smirk; your furrowed eyebrows and flushed cheeks are fueling him to press forward way more than they should.

“What? I mean it,” Sylvain says. “I pride myself on being able to show pretty girls a good time.” He pauses. “You’re no exception, you know. I could show you a good time — all you have to do is ask, baby.” 

“ _I’m married,_ ” you spit back. Sylvain shrugs. “We’re _literally_ talking about my marriage right now, Sylvain.” 

“Doesn’t bother me,” he says simply. “You just need to say the word and I’m down. I could actually get you off, you know. You’ve told me before that he’s not all that concerned about making sure you’re satisfied after he comes.” 

You don’t say anything, only looking at him incredulously, because there is _no_ way your best friend just hinted at you cheating on your husband with him. 

“Let me run through it all one more time,” Sylvain says. “He doesn’t ask what new things you want to try despite you asking him what he wants to try, he can hardly reply to you when you send him pictures of you looking adorable in new clothes, he can’t be bothered to actually get you off, and he can’t even eat you out? Is that right?”

You can’t even argue with him, despite your frustration, because he’s _right._ Nothing he said was an assumption. You’ve told him all of that yourself, and it sounds so much worse when you hear it from someone else’s mouth. If any of your other female friends had described their boyfriend or husband’s sex habits the way you describe your husband’s, you’d be livid on your friend’s behalf. 

“Yes, that’s right,” you say quietly after what feels like an eternity of staying silent. “But I would never cheat on him.” With each passing second, though, that “never” gets shakier and shakier, and you’re embarrassed and appalled to find that you’re _imagining_ Sylvain between your legs, working you to orgasm with his tongue as he massages your thighs. You picture Sylvain thrusting into you and showering you with praises as he always does over text. You imagine Sylvain having you ride him as he compliments your technique and your body, rambling on and on about how _beautiful_ you are and what a _good_ girl you are for him, twisting your hips like that on his cock—

You’re _mortified._ Probably not as mortified as you should be, seeing as the thought turns you on. You know Sylvain would treat you so, so very well in bed, attending to your pleasure first and his pleasure second, the complete opposite of your husband. You _know_ that Sylvain would make you come over and over with nothing but his mouth and his fingers until your thighs are shaking in his grip, body writhing and lips parted in desperate moans of his name as you tangle your fingers in his soft hair.

“Daydreaming about something, baby?” Sylvain asks, and you’re instantly pulled from your thoughts. He’s eyeing you with a knowing smirk, as if he’s peeking directly into your mind and watching your filthy thoughts on a screen. 

“No, certainly not,” you stammer.

“It would stay between us, beautiful,” Sylvain murmurs. “Like I’d ever tell. Unless you’d want me to brag about how I actually got you off, of course.” 

You don’t snap back with an angry reply, as you’re quickly becoming more and more turned on by all of the filthy, _adulterous_ thoughts you’re having about you and Sylvain, fucking like real lovers on your husband’s own bed as you cry out a name other than your husband’s, coming for a cock other than your husband’s—

You stand up silently and grab your empty mug and Sylvain’s, before making your way to the kitchen sink to wash them. Sylvain eyes you, entertaining filthy thoughts of his own as you wash out the mugs with that cute blush that drives him wild still on your cheeks. Sylvain imagines bending you right over the kitchen counter and pounding into you like that, making you squeal his name as you squeeze around his cock like a good little housewife. Sylvain imagines you cooking for him dressed only in a cute little pink apron, the kind with frills around the edges and heart-shaped pockets, as he ogles your ass and palms his cock in his hand. He imagines kneeling behind you and dipping his head between your legs and eating your pussy while you cling to the counter, thighs shaking around his face. 

He stops when he feels his cock start to harden in his pants — the last thing he needs is to show you what he’s thinking (until you agree, of course, because he knows you will. He knows you’ll agree before you do). 

“Sylvain,” you whisper quietly, averting your gaze. “Do you want to join me in my room?” You’re _beyond_ mortified with what you’re insinuating, but it’s hard to resist his charms while trying to ignore your own sexual frustration in the process. 

Besides, it’s not like your husband ever has to know — Sylvain certainly won’t tell, and you won’t tell either.

“What a _good_ housewife you are,” Sylvain mumbles, rising from his chair to cup your chin in one of his hands. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll make sure you’re satisfied. I’ll keep you going all night long.” 

He leans in close, and you’re quickly growing less and less guilty by the moment with the way he looks at you. He’s just so _handsome_ , and he’s eyeing you so tenderly it almost makes you feel like you could be in love with him — which would be you returning the feelings he keeps hidden away from you. 

“Can I kiss you, beautiful?” he asks, and his tone is so reverent and gentle you fear for a moment that you’ll melt. 

“I’d like that,” you whisper shyly, and he’s instantly claiming your lips with his. His lips move against yours gently, like a man kissing his first love for the very first time, and one of your hands presses against his chest to steady yourself against his body. Sylvain wraps his free arm around your waist and pulls you close as he continues to kiss you, and part of you _knows_ this is wrong, so very wrong, but the other part of you is happy to be kissed so lovingly for the first time in God-only-knows-how-long. 

“Will he be back soon?” Sylvain mumbles against your lips. 

“He’s out of town on a business trip,” you answer, shivering when Sylvain rubs circles into the small of your back with his thumb. “He won’t be back for another week.” 

“I would say ‘you poor thing’, but it’s not like he would be giving you amazing reunion sex when he gets back, right?” he jokes, and you punch his chest. 

“Don’t get too cocky,” you scold. “It’s just this once, okay?”

Sylvain chuckles. “Don’t worry, baby, you’ll be addicted to how good I am by tomorrow. You won’t be able to go back to him after I make you come using just my mouth.” You shiver in his hold at his words, entertaining the idea of him burying his mouth between your legs and eating you out until you’re grinding your hips against his mouth. It would be _nice,_ having oral reciprocated for once in your life. 

Eventually, the two of you make your way to the bedroom you share with your husband. Not that it’s necessary, as the two of you certainly won’t be disturbed, but Sylvain locks the door behind you nonetheless before shooting you a sultry smirk. 

“Dirty girl, cheating on your husband in his own bed,” Sylvain teases, making quick work of removing his shirt. Naturally, you can’t stop yourself from ogling his body, and you realize right away that he’s built way better than your husband. Sylvain is a good few inches taller than him and far more toned than him, with defined abs, firm arms, and large pecs, and you can’t stop yourself from running your hands down his torso. You could spend _days_ admiring him and touching him, but you’re a little pressed for time in that regard. 

“Your turn,” he says, grabbing the hem of your shirt. “You have _no_ idea how badly I want to see you, sweetheart.” 

Shyly, you raise your arms up over your head, and you almost hesitate for a second because you’re about to bare yourself to someone other than your husband. It’s not like there’s any going back, anyhow, because you don’t think you can ignore your sexual frustrations any longer, and Sylvain’s not sure he can put aside his desire to make you his, if even for one night, any longer. 

He lifts your shirt up off your arms before tossing it carelessly to the side before he comes back to take an eyeful of your mostly-exposed torso. 

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he whispers. “I already knew you were cute, but seeing you like this is… amazing.” Sylvain moves his hands to cup your bra-clad breasts experimentally. He’s always checking to see if you’ll stop him, but you’re still into it, so he continues to grope at you. 

“It’s so _nice_ to finally see the body you’re always showing off in your pictures to me, sweetheart,” he murmurs in your ear, squeezing your tits in his hands. “Can’t wait to see how good this body looks when you’re bouncing up and down on my cock.” 

You gasp softly at the thought, but your pussy tightens up around nothing at the idea of riding his cock to orgasm as he digs his hands into your hips, thrusting up into you before filling you up with his cum—

“Do you have a condom?” you ask. 

“Of course I do,” Sylvain replies, patting his wallet in the pocket of his jeans. “Size Super Extra Large.”

You laugh. “Don’t flatter yourself, Sylvain.” 

Sylvain presses his lips just behind your ear, making you shiver. “Do you think I’m bigger than your husband?”

You gasp at his question, though you feel you already know the answer. 

“Oh, I don’t know, really,” you stutter shyly, eyeing the growing bulge in Sylvain’s pants. While your husband isn’t small, but likely only average at best, the bulge in Sylvain’s pants suggests he’s _well_ above average. 

“Tell me who you think is bigger, beautiful,” he whispers, pressing more kisses behind your ear. 

“You are, Sylvain,” you answer. “Your cock is bigger; I want you to fill me with it so bad.” 

He groans at that, and feels his cock twitch in his pants. “Where did all this confidence come from, sweetheart? Just a few minutes ago, you were so shy. Too horny to hold back any longer, huh?”

“I’m just telling you what you want to hear, Sylvain,” you protest teasingly, and reach one of your hands down to cup the front of his jeans. 

“You sure about that? I think you’re finally being honest with yourself, finally telling me how badly you want to get fucked the way a pretty girl like you deserves to get fucked,” Sylvain mumbles, and he lets out a groan when you squeeze his bulge. “On the bed for me, baby.” 

Sylvain sheds his jeans before he joins you up on the bed as you wiggle out of your skirt, tossing it to join the growing pile of clothing on the floor. Your panties and your bra don’t match, and they’re far from sexy and lacy, but in your defense, you weren’t exactly expecting to get laid today. Sylvain doesn’t care, though, he’s more focused on getting you out of them so he can see you laid bare for him. 

“I meant what I said earlier, you know,” Sylvain says, settling himself between your legs as he parts them wider with his hands on your thighs. “About eating you out for hours on end each day. If you were my wife, I’d eat you until you’re squirting onto my tongue. I’d let you ride my face and fuck yourself on my tongue until you’re crying from how good it feels, gorgeous.” 

The thought of straddling Sylvain’s face and letting him tonguefuck you makes you shiver, and you gasp when he pulls your panties off of you in one quick motion, leaving your bare pussy before his gaze. He licks his lips and settles himself down onto his stomach before pressing kisses to the inside of one of your knees, and you watch him intently. It’s your last chance to tell him to stop before it’s really too late to stop, but the thought of asking him to stop doesn’t even cross your mind. 

You feel the intense need to apologize to your husband. 

Sylvain kisses a line up your leg before he plants a kiss to the soft skin of your lower stomach, and he looks up at you. “Can I, baby?” He’s treating you so _gently_ , like a real lover, and it has your heart beating quickly in your chest. 

You nod, silently begging for him to hurry up and eat you out. It’ll be your first time getting eaten out by _anyone,_ and the fact that it’s not your husband makes it that much hotter. It feels absolutely forbidden, and for some reason, you _love_ it more than you thought you would love it twenty minutes ago. 

Sylvain traces a slow line down the lips of your pussy with his tongue, and you shiver when he licks over your clit. You had _no_ idea that having a tongue work your clit could feel so good, as you’ve only ever had it played with by your fingers and your toys, and maybe even your husband’s fingers when he’s feeling generous. 

Sylvain figures that your husband doesn’t pay much attention to the sensitive bundle of nerves, so he vows to pay extra special attention to your clit to show you what you’ve been missing. Your hands fly to tangle in Sylvain’s hair when he gives a broad swipe of his tongue over your clit, and you whine his name. 

“My name sounds so good when you’re the one moaning it,” Sylvain hums from between your legs before diving back in to eat you out. His ministrations are slow and calculated and perfectly timed to your body’s reactions as he gauges what you like. Your hips arch against his mouth as he traces firm circles into your clit, which he takes as an overwhelming _keep going_ from you. 

Sylvain is intent on making you come once like this before he fucks you properly, and he knows you’re more than happy to take it. He wonders how your body will respond, coming for another man. 

Hooking your legs up over his shoulders, Sylvain dips his tongue into your pussy to taste your juices, and you moan loudly when he swipes his tongue back over your clit before digging the tip of his tongue into it. 

“Oh, _Sylvain,_ ” you moan, and you realize that you’re moaning out for a man other than your husband, and a wave of shame hits you. Before you can dwell on it for too long, Sylvain prods two fingers at your pussy as he continues to lick at your clit, and you’re so eager to be filled by _anything_ that you push your hips forward. He chuckles against your pussy before sliding his fingers in, delighting in just how wet you are already. 

“Does your husband make you this wet, baby? You’re getting so fucking wet for me, God, I fucking love it,” Sylvain asks, and you shiver. You shake your head; you don’t think you’ve ever been this wet for your husband, nor do you think he’s ever taken the time with foreplay to make you this wet. 

“Does he even bother with foreplay? Does he take his time with this sweet little body?” 

You shake your head again. “He’ll finger me a little,” you say quietly. “But you already know he doesn’t eat me out or anything…” 

“I can’t even tell you how happy I am to be your first,” he says, and his chest surges with pride at the fact that he’ll be the first man to get you to come using his tongue. “You’re so beautiful, you’re being so good for me. Such a good girl, letting me make you feel so good. You like this, baby?” His voice horse from arousal, and it has you getting even wetter for him. 

“Yes, I love it, I love it, Sylvain,” you affirm, and he offers you a praising smirk before he plants his lips back around your clitoris to give the bead a firm suck. You whine out his name and tug on his hair with your fingers, and Sylvain slides his fingers back inside of you, slowly thrusting them in and out of your pussy to help spread you open for him.

It only takes a few more swipes of Sylvain’s tongue and you’re coming, and he groans at the way your pussy tightens up around his fingers as you come. You cry out his name, head rolling back against the pillow, and Sylvain continues to slowly lick at your clit as you come, riding out your orgasm for as long as he can. You’re tugging desperately on his hair as you come, hips writhing in his grip and thighs shaking on his shoulders, and Sylvain swears he’s never seen anything hotter in his entire life — his sweet beloved, a _married housewife,_ coming on his tongue and whimpering his name.

Once you’ve come back down from your orgasm, he slides his fingers out of you before popping them into his mouth to clean your juices off his fingers. It’s a sensation you’ve never felt before, and it certainly feels different than coming because of your own fingers or your toys. If you were more patient, you would have asked Sylvain to eat you out once more, but all you can think about is having his cock inside of you, slamming into you so good your toes curl and you cry out his name. 

You could get addicted to how it feels to have a man use his mouth on you, but you know the only man in your life who’s capable of doing that for you isn’t your husband.

“How was that, babe? Does having your pretty pussy eaten feel good?” Sylvain asks, licking the remnants of your release off of his bottom lip. All you can do is nod as you work at catching your breath post-orgasm, your eyelids lidded and lips parted. 

“Your husband’s missing out on your cute post-orgasm face, you know,” he says, winking at you. “You tasted so fucking good, baby. Fuck, I just want to be between your legs for _hours,_ eating you out until you squirt. A pretty girl like you deserves to be eaten out every single day.”

Sylvain presses more kisses to the inside of your thighs, his hands rubbing circles into the outside of them. Your chest heaves with pants as you attempt to collect yourself, body shivering and writhing under his grip. It’s just been _so_ long since you’ve had sex, so it’s hard to blame you for how eager and desperate you are for it now, even if you need it from your best friend more than you need it from your own husband.

“Do you want me to use my mouth on you too?” you ask, and Sylvain’s heart squeezes in his chest at how _cute_ the gesture is. What a good, devoted little housewife.

“Next time, baby, because really, I’d _love_ to see you on your knees, sucking my cock for me like a good little wife,” Sylvain says, coming back up from between your legs to plant his hands on the bed on either side of your chest. “But I have to be inside of you, right now.” 

He offers you one more kiss, and you blush at the taste of yourself on his lips, and he’s moving so you can sit up on the bed with him. He loops his arms around your back to unclasp your bra, something he’s dreamed about doing for years, finally revealing every last inch of you to his gaze. 

“Face the mirror,” Sylvain mumbles, glancing over at the mirror on your vanity. “I want you to watch as you take another man’s cock.” 

You blush deep red, but you do as he asks, shifting with him so you’re in his lap, facing the mirror with him. He must have discarded his boxers while he was between your legs, because he’s perfectly bare behind you, hard cock standing at full attention for you. 

He is much, _much_ bigger than your husband. Sylvain is so much thicker and so much longer that you almost fear there’s no way he can fit inside of you, but the thought of having such a huge cock thrusting inside of you and filling you on each thrust of his hips has you shivering with delight. 

“Oh, shit, the condom,” Sylvain groans, glancing around for his pants.

“Don’t,” you reply, and Sylvain looks back in the mirror at you. “I want you to come inside of me, Sylvain.” 

You can see his cock twitch in the mirror, and a devilish grin makes its way onto his face. “Is that right, baby? You sure?” he asks, both to tease you and to affirm that that’s really what you want. 

“Yes, please,” you affirm. “I want you to come inside of me, I want it so bad.”

“Fuck, I’d love that,” Sylvain seizes hold of your hips in both his hands, positioning you over the head of his cock. “I want to watch my cum drip out of your pussy after you’re so spent you can’t walk.” 

Sylvain nuzzles into your neck before kissing it gently, and you’ve never felt so desperate to have a cock inside of you in your life. You need this more than you need your husband’s cock, you need this more than you’ve _ever_ craved your husband’s cock. 

“Bigger than your husband’s, isn’t it?” Sylvain asks, prodding the opening of your pussy with the head of his cock. 

“So much bigger,” you whisper. “I need it so bad, Sylvain, I need _you_ so bad.” 

Sylvain groans. “Fuck, you're going to kill me.”

Your husband has been reduced to nothing but an afterthought by now, as all you can focus on is the thick length of Sylvain’s cock pushing into you, and you whimper helplessly as he fills you up on it. It’s a sinful betrayal towards your husband, but you feel far from guilty. Maybe if your husband had put some effort into pleasing you then you wouldn’t be here, taking another man’s cock so eagerly, in the first place. 

“God, you take me so well,” Sylvain mutters, watching the way your pussy takes each inch of his cock in with ease. He’s honestly thankful you decided to forgo the condom, as feeling your raw pussy around his cock is, without a doubt, the greatest goddamn thing he’s ever felt. 

“So tight, _fuck,_ ” he curses, lips curling into a lazy smirk. “Such a naughty girl, so eager for my cock, so eager for someone other than her husband. Your pussy’s so tight, baby, you wanted this so bad. Your body’s just _begging_ to be fucked; _fuck,_ what a good little housewife.” 

You arch your back and moan as he fills you all the way to your cervix, and he’s so deep inside of you like this you fear you’ll split into two on his thick cock. He fills every last inch of your pussy, and you squeeze up around him eagerly as he makes a shallow, experimental thrust into you. You reward him with a gasp, watching the way he fills you in the mirror. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Sylvain groans. “Those pretty hips, those goddamn tits, those sexy fucking legs, that cute little ass. _Such_ a perfect body. Christ, your husband’s an idiot for not taking full advantage of such a sexy body. Do you have any idea of the kinds of things I’d do to you every single day if you were _my_ girl instead?”

You ride Sylvain eagerly, slamming your hips down onto him. The feeling of a raw cock other than your husband’s is making you delirious with lust, and you can’t help but cry out with each motion of your hips. “You sure look like my girl like this,” he whispers, squeezing his nails into your hips. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you’ve had your wedding ring off all night, beautiful. Are you trying to tell me you want me more than you want him?”

You gasp, and Sylvain grunts when your pussy tightens up around him even further. “You’re _my_ girl now,” he says with a breathless laugh. “After tonight, he’ll never satisfy you again. Your poor husband won’t even come close to getting you off with that tiny cock of his.” 

“Yours is so big,” you whimper. “I love it, Sylvain, your cock is the best.”

He laughs before lifting you up off his cock, and you find yourself instantly missing that full sensation. Sylvain flips you over onto your stomach, and you immediately bring your hips up and dig your hands into the sheets. 

“Please fuck me, Sylvain,” you whimper, wiggling your ass for him. 

“Good girl, begging for me like that,” he praises, taking his cock in one hand and lining it back up with your pussy. “I bet you don’t beg for your husband’s cock like this. You’re so desperate for my cock, fuck, it’s so hot.” 

He shoves himself inside of you with one quick thrust, and it has you burying your face in the sheets as your hands clutch at them desperately. You whine his name into the bed as he works at pounding into you, and Sylvain loops one hand around your thighs to rest on your lower stomach. 

“I want you to say ‘Sylvain’s cock is better than my husband’s cock,’” Sylvain says, grinning devilishly at your shivering form. 

You’re instantly embarrassed by his words, but you oblige nonetheless, because it’s _true._ “Sylvain’s cock is better than my husband’s cock,” you repeat in a whiny, breathless voice. “I love your cock more than my husband’s cock.” 

Letting out a deep groan at your addition to his words, Sylvain slams his hips against yours so rough you fear your thighs will bruise. You’re moaning desperately as he continues to fuck you better than you’ve ever been fucked in your entire life, and you wonder how you’ve gone without good sex for so long and settled for whatever your husband thought would please you, because nothing he’s ever done has ever come close to pleasing you as much as Sylvain’s been able to please you in one night. 

Sylvain hunches over your body as he continues to pound his cock into you, and he’s thrusting so hard and so deep you’re positive that you’ll break any second now. You’re crying out his name desperately as he continues to fuck you the way you deserve to be fucked, the way you’ve _always_ deserved to be fucked, because you shouldn’t have ever settled for less than Sylvain. 

You nearly sob when he slides his hand down your stomach to slip it between your legs, toying with your clit in an effort to bring you closer to coming for him again. Your body writhes pathetically in his grip as you try to hold onto what semblance of wits you have left, but that proves to be an increasingly difficult task with each delicious thrust of Sylvain’s hips. 

“Sylvain, oh, God, I love it, I love it, _I love it,”_ you whine desperately, crying out when he digs a hard circle into your clit with his pointer finger. 

“Yeah? You like that?” he groans, slapping your ass with his free hand just to watch it jiggle. You squeal with delight; Sylvain is so much rougher and so much more passionate than your husband ever could be, indulging the side of you that just wants nothing more than to be used and fucked roughly. “You’re becoming such a slutty housewife, sweetheart. After today, nobody else but me will be able to satisfy you.”

“It’s just this once,” you protest weakly, but you don’t really mean it. You couldn’t ever go back to a life without sex with Sylvain now. 

“There’s no way,” he laughs breathlessly. “There’s no _way_ you’ll be able to return to your husband after today. He couldn’t satisfy you before, but now I don’t think you’d want him to even try. You only want me, isn’t that right?”

You don’t answer right away, both because you’re embarrassed and because you’re so deep in your own pleasure you find it difficult to form words. 

“Say it,” Sylvain coaxes, offering you another slap to your ass as he slams his cock into you. 

“I only want you! I only want you, Sylvain!” Your cries for him are desperate and needy, and it’s then that Sylvain confirms that you’ve officially become _his._

“That’s my good girl,” he praises, rewarding you with another circle rubbed into your sensitive clit. You’re tightening up around his cock so eagerly Sylvain’s sure you’re close to coming for him again, and he’s more than happy to take you there.

You’re moaning garbled versions of Sylvain’s name as he continues to thrust every last thick, delicious inch of his cock into you, fucking you far rougher, deeper, and _better_ than your husband ever has. Sylvain continues to tease your clit with his fingers, and you’re coming for him again, coming on a cock other than your husband’s. You wail Sylvain’s name as you come, and Sylvain smirks devilishly at just how _cute_ the entire scene is. A sweet, sexually frustrated little housewife, crying out his name and shaking her hips on his cock instead of her husband’s. Forbidden fruit just tastes _so_ sweet; he swears that married girls feel so much better. 

“Sylvain, I love it, I love you,” you whimper helplessly as you come for him, pussy squeezing up around him with everything you have to offer him. 

“What a good girl, telling me you love me,” he praises with a breathless groan, feeling his own orgasm creeping up on him. “Isn’t that something wives should only say to their husbands?”

“I love you, I love you!” you say it again, and Sylvain’s not sure if you’re simply caught up in the heat of the moment, lost to the mercy of your own passion, or if you’re saying it because you _mean_ it, but he doesn’t really think it matters. Hearing such a declaration from you is more than enough to pull on the heartstrings of his pining heart.

“God, I love you too,” Sylvain says with a moan of your name. He moves his hands to steady on your hips as he gives a few final, sloppy thrusts into you before shooting his load out into you.  
  
“That’s a good girl,” he praises salaciously as he fills you up with his cum. “You’re _such_ a good girl for me, I love you. Such a good girl, taking my cum so eagerly. You like that?”

“Yes, fill me, fill me, fill me up,” you babble helplessly, pushing your hips further back towards him as his cum fills you. There’s so _much;_ surely his load is bigger than your husbands’ are, and the simple feeling of his cum filling you up makes you beyond thankful you decided to forgo the condom. It just feels so _good_ having his hot cum fill you up until it drips down your thighs. 

Sylvain groans, low and long in his throat, as his cock twitches inside of you, giving you every last drop he has to offer. “Fuck, this feels so good. You’re such a bad little wife, letting another man cum inside of you. You must have been _desperate_ to feel this, what a slutty little housewife.”

“No, no, I’m not a slut,” you protest weakly, but you shiver at his words nonetheless. It’s so _exciting_ having him talk down to you like this. 

“Really? You’re sure cheating like one,” Sylvain muses, keeping his cock buried inside of you even after he’s finished filling you with his load. “Cheating like such a sweet, slutty little housewife. Fuck, I love it.” 

You’re at a loss for words because there’s nothing to refute. You’re cheating on your husband with your best friend, and the thought alone is so helplessly arousing that you moan weakly just at the realization. Here you are, a married (formerly married?) woman, taking your best friend’s cock, and allowing him to make you feel better than your husband has ever made you feel. 

Sylvain slides out of you, and he had pumped so much cum inside of you that it instantly starts dripping out of your pussy onto the bedsheets below. “Such a good girl,” he praises again. “Do you like having another man creampie you? You were so happy to let me come inside of you; I love it.”

“Yes, I love it,” you pant weakly, legs finally collapsing into the bed now that they’re free from Sylvain’s grip. 

“I almost feel bad for your husband, you know,” he chirps, reaching to grab a few tissues off the nightstand to start cleaning you up. “He’s probably off working hard or having drinks with his boss while his cute little wife takes another man’s cock at home. You were so _cute,_ moaning my name like that, baby. You’re _perfect_.” 

“I love you,” you whimper against the sheets as Sylvain continues to wipe the cum dripping out of you with the wad of tissues in his hand. “Thank you, Sylvain.”

“For what?” he asks, curious.

You hesitate for a second, embarrassed. “You know,” you start. “For actually making sure I feel good.” 

“C’mon, baby, that’s the bare minimum. You shouldn’t have to thank a guy for making you come,” Sylvain says. “Now, c’mon. Let’s go take a bath. We’re a mess.” 

You stand up off the bed and your knees instantly buckle, legs shaking. Sylvain notices and laughs before wrapping an arm around you to support you. “Fucked so good you can’t walk straight, huh?” he laughs, making his way to the bathroom with you. 

As he busies himself with starting the water and checking the temperature, Sylvain looks over at you. “Next time, you should ride me for real. I wanna see that gorgeous body bouncing up and down on my cock like that.” 

You scowl at him. “Sylvain, I said there won’t _be_ a next time.” 

He challenges that with a smirk. “Really? Are you _positive?_ Are you already prepared to go back to the life of a cute, faithful little wife? Can you put up with your husband not even managing to eat you out, let alone make you come?”

You stammer through your words and blush, looking away from him. He walks over to you and leans in close. “You don’t want that life again, do you?” he asks, words dripping with a salacious, sinful honey. “I can show you so much more than what I’ve just shown you tonight. I can show you more than your husband ever could. I can appreciate you and your body the way they deserve to be appreciated.”

Sylvain wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You can feel his soft cock against your thigh, and you’re _positive_ that he’s nearly just as big when soft as your husband is when hard. 

“I’ll make you my girl,” he continues. “I’ll have you so addicted to my cock that you have no choice but to become _my_ wife instead.” You shiver at the thought of indulging all of the fantasies you’ve had for years with Sylvain, because if your husband won’t indulge them, your new boyfriend will. 

“Would you,” you start carefully. “Like to come over for coffee again on Saturday?” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLOOOOOO TO ALL MY FELLOW SLUTS!!! CHAPTER 2 OF SYLVAIN NTR LETS GOOO
> 
> Who Would Win? pathetic unnamed husband who has a small cock and doesn't know what the clit is or sexy, ginger stud with an 8.5 inch cock who eats pussy like it's his last meal? debate in comments!!!
> 
> enjoy!

_“Rise and shine, babe, it’s Saturday,”_ the text from Sylvain reads. You squint at your phone, the screen much too bright for your tired eyes, as you read his unconventional good morning text. 

“Saturday? What about Saturday?” you ask yourself aloud with a tired groan, rubbing your bleary eyes. _Oh, right,_ you think. _Sylvain is coming over again today to do… that._

To, of course, help you cheat on your husband. Again. 

Sylvain had spent the night with you after your prior rendezvous from a few days before, snuggling you in the bed meant for your husband to hold you in. The guilt had set in almost instantly following your awakening that moment as you registered the feeling of Sylvain’s arms wrapped loosely around you, your face tucked in his neck. 

You had _cheated on your husband,_ and with your _best friend_ no less.

However, you also felt more satisfied than you’ve ever felt in your entire life, with Sylvain having relieved you of two months worth of pent-up sexual frustration. He had fucked you so _good,_ making you come two times more than your husband bothers to on most nights. Sylvain had paid more attention to your body and your pleasure than your husband ever has, and the idea that Sylvain had finally pleased you the way a man ought to please a woman lessens your guilt considerably. 

Besides, cheating once is already bad, so cheating twice can’t be much worse. In for a penny, in for a pound; if you had already cheated once in order to get the best sex of your life with the best man in your life, how much worse is it to do it again?

The thought of Sylvain coming over tonight to fuck you right into your mattress again has you more aroused than you should be in the early morning, as you don’t think it’s healthy to be getting so horny when it’s not even nine in the morning, but Sylvain just has that effect on you. 

You get up and pull something out of your closet that you had originally bought and worn for your husband, but you feel it has _far_ more use being worn for a man who will appreciate both the outfit and the body wearing it more than your husband ever did. 

Sylvain’s phone buzzes on his nightstand and he reaches over to grab it, grinning eagerly when his home screen reads that he’s received a text from you. 

“ _Good morning,”_ the text from you reads. Simple enough, but his eyes widen when he scrolls up to view the picture you sent him. 

Your body’s adorned in absolutely _nothing_ save for an intricate, lacy red lingerie set, and you have one arm hugging your breasts in an act of modesty, as the bra does little to cover you up. Sylvain isn’t sure how you manage to be so _cute_ while you’re being so undeniably sexy, and it makes him groan out a curse under his breath. 

Sylvain’s reply is almost immediate. “ _Aww, did you buy this for your husband or for me?”_ The text reads, and you just _know_ he’s smirking at his phone. “ _I_ _t looks so sexy on you, babe. Wish I was there to pull those cute little panties to the side, bend you over your bed, and fuck you.”_

You squirm in your seated position on the floor, indulging the thought of Sylvain properly rewarding you for picking out such a lovely little outfit for him. You imagine riding him while you’re wearing only your stockings, panties pushed to dangle around your ankle, with Sylvain’s hands cupping your breasts while you grind your hips down onto his cock.

It is _much_ too early to be having such filthy thoughts. 

“ _I bought it for him,”_ you confess. Sylvain’s phone buzzes with a second text. “ _But I figured you would appreciate it more than he did.”_

Sylvain reaches a hand into his sweatpants to palm at his cock as you continue to talk to him, grinning at his phone. It must be his lucky day; a married housewife showing off for him rather than her husband, confessing that she craves him far more than she craves the man she’s married to. 

“' _Appreciate’ doesn’t even begin to cover it, beautiful,”_ his reply reads. “ _Do you have any idea what I would do to you if I were there with you? Fuck, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of you.”_

“ _I wouldn’t want you to keep your hands off of me.”_

Sylvain twitches in his pants at that— You’re just so cute, being so bold over text as if you aren’t so impossibly shy about having sex with him in person. 

“ _You’re such a bad girl, showing yourself off to me like this. Tell me how badly you want me right now,”_ he types, slowly jerking himself off with his other hand. It’s a little difficult to type using only his left hand, sure, but he can’t neglect his growing erection that throbs with need with each filthy text you send his way. 

On your end, you’re not faring much better, with your body splayed out on your bed and one of your hands sandwiched between your thighs. You’re rubbing at your scantily-clad pussy, phone clutched in your other hand as you drink in Sylvain’s texts, and the feeling of the rough lace of your panties rubbing against your sensitive sex has you writhing on your bed. You imagine Sylvain’s hands between your legs instead, and your hand stops momentarily when you realize that you aren’t even imagining your husband anymore; rather, you’re imagining Sylvain to help you get yourself off. 

Your reply takes a second, as you’re typing with one hand, but you reply nonetheless. “ _I want you more than I want my husband,”_ you confess to Sylvain with all the guilt of an adulterer confessing to a priest. 

He groans, imagining you saying all of this to his face. He imagines you eagerly lowering yourself to your knees to suck him off, submitting yourself to a man who isn’t your husband. He imagines filling you with his cum over and over until he has nothing left to give you, fully emptying himself in a cheating housewife’s pussy, and he nearly comes at the thought of you eagerly taking his cum while you squeal his name desperately. 

_“You can’t even call him your husband anymore, can you?”_ Sylvain’s text asks, and you shiver at what he’s suggesting. _“You’re hardly even his anymore. Are you my girl now?”_

You aren’t sure how to reply. _Are you his now?_ If you truly did still belong to your husband, you wouldn’t be here, flirting with another man, would you? If you were still his loving wife, you wouldn’t be _cheating_ on him, would you?

Your reply is simple. _“I’m yours, Sylvain.”_

Sylvain grins at your proclamation of your devotion to him and your eagerness for his love and affections. _“And you’ll show me that you’re mine tonight, won’t you? Let me see that body that’s mine now.”_ His hand moves faster along his cock, and he wishes that you were jerking him off with those soft hands of yours that he just adores, but you’ll do all that for him and more later. 

You snap him a picture of your spread legs, your hand rubbing roughly against your clothed pussy. Sylvain’s hand picks up as he jerks himself off as he drinks in the sight of you _touching yourself for him_ , and he makes a mental note to ask you to show him how you touch yourself later.

“ _I wish you were touching me instead,”_ your text that accompanies the picture reads. He groans, smirking, because _God_ does he wish he was the one touching you too. He’s close; his cock is throbbing desperately in his hand as he continues to stare at the _lovely_ view you’re giving him.

You shoot Sylvain one more picture of your body wrapped up in the red lace before going to fix yourself breakfast, leaving Sylvain hanging on purpose as a form of teasing. You know he’s eagerly awaiting your next response to his filthy dirty talk, and you know he’s practically praying for you to send him another image, but that’s all he’ll be getting from you. 

You’re _such_ a naughty girl, leaving him hanging without so much as a text reply when he’s _so_ close to coming to your pictures and your words. He’ll be sure to pay you back for that later.

It’s just about five o’clock when your doorbell rings, and you smooth out the skirt of your apron as you make your way to the door to let your salacious visitor in. Your heart is beating so loudly inside of your chest you’re sure Sylvain can hear it through the door, but you’re far too excited to even try to look composed. Really, you would like to be a little more put-together, as you’re sure Sylvain is expecting you to look desperate, but you just can’t help yourself. 

“That was fast,” Sylvain notes as you open the door. “Were you waiting for me on your knees in front of the door like a good, _faithful_ wife?”

“Hardly,” you grin with a roll of your eyes, and Sylvain feels like he’s been punched in the chest when he finally gets an eyeful of what you’re wearing. 

Your body’s adorned in only a cute pink apron, _the very kind with ruffles around the edges and heart-shaped pockets,_ and absolutely nothing else, and he wonders if you had read his mind from the time before where he was imagining taking you in your kitchen while you were dressed in only a pink apron and nothing else. 

“Fuck,” he groans, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “Fuck.” 

“Welcome home, darling,” you purr, and you almost feel like his wife. Almost. 

Sylvain hums approvingly, tracing his eyes from your exposed cleavage to your bare thighs. He wasn’t expecting you to be _this_ eager, showing yourself off for him before he could even properly greet you, but he _certainly_ isn’t complaining. He wastes no time in bringing you close by wrapping you in a hug, and you squeak with surprise when his hands squeeze at your ass with generous, rough handfuls.

“You’re so sexy,” he murmurs into your ear, and you shiver at his tone. Your hands press into his clothed chest to steady yourself. “You drive me crazy. You always have, God, you drive me insane.” 

You can’t say anything, all you can manage to do is moan breathlessly as he presses slow kisses along your jawline, hands still kneading the flesh of your exposed ass. There’s already a slight bulge pressing against your thighs, and you giggle at how eager Sylvain is and how easy it is for you to turn him on like this.

“You’re a naughty wife, leaving me hanging like that earlier when we were texting,” Sylvain whispers. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“You’re always teasing me,” you reply. “I wanted to tease you a little, too.”

Amused, Sylvain chuckles. “So naughty. I should bend you over my lap and spank you for being so bad. Would you like that?”

You shiver at the thought— you’ve come to find that you have a penchant for being treated roughly during sex. You’ve been imagining Sylvain roughing you up a little ever since he fucked you so hard you nearly got shoved through the mattress, and Lord knows that your husband would never even try to spank you. Sylvain is _more_ than happy to indulge that side of you that just wants to be handled like you’re no more than a toy, treating you roughly until you break for him. There’s just something about treating a sweet, cute little housewife like you like a spoiled slut that _really_ gets him going. 

“I would,” you confess, your mind drowning in thoughts of Sylvain spanking you until you’re crying and squealing and begging him for mercy. 

“Keep acting up and I just might _have_ to spank you,” he says, voice low and dark in the way that makes your thighs knock together and your heart beat a little faster. “Treating pretty girls like you roughly _really_ gets me going, you know. You would love that, right? You were so excited when I was fucking you, I just know you love being treated roughly.”

You moan as he continues to talk, punctuating his words with wet kisses to your neck. “It’s a shame your husband doesn’t bother to take full advantage of everything you like, isn’t it?” Sylvain squeezes your ass roughly, making you shiver. “A pretty girl like you, not getting fucked the way she wants to be fucked… man, that shouldn’t be allowed.” 

“ _You_ fuck me the way I want to be fucked,” you say, and you wince at how shaky your voice is. Sylvain just has that effect on you. 

Sylvain throbs in his pants at that, and it’s taking every ounce of his willpower to not fuck you right here and now with how badly he needs you. 

“Yeah, you like getting fucked like a cheap prostitute, don’t you?” he purrs. “You were so _good_ for me. Taking my cock so eagerly like you’ve been cheating on him since your wedding night, _fuck,_ you were amazing. You like getting fucked that hard?”

“Yes, I love it,” you say breathily, whimpering when Sylvain offers you a slap to your ass. 

“Suck me off, beautiful,” Sylvain requests, though he’s certainly not asking you to, he’s _telling_ you to. That slight domineering tone to his voice excites you far more than it should, and you obediently lower yourself to your knees. 

You run your palm over the bulge in his pants and shiver at the thought of taking all of him inside of you again. He’s so big and so thick and so hard and it fills you so _well_ , filling you until the stretch borders on pleasurably painful. Sylvain had said it before, but you believe it yourself now, too — there’s no _way_ you’ll be able to go back to your husband’s cock after having felt Sylvain’s fill you. 

“Will you be able to take it all?” Sylvain asks teasingly. “You’re so used to small dick that I don’t know how much of mine you can take.” 

You glare up at him, but you’re wondering the exact same thing. You don’t have _any_ experience with deepthroating, and hardly any with oral to begin with, but you’ll do your best for him. You carefully unbuckle Sylvain’s belt and undo his pants, and you wonder if your mouth is watering at the sight of his bulge. He’s just so _big_ and thick and you can’t get enough of it. You bring his cock out through that slot in his boxer briefs, and you can feel your pussy twitching just from the sight of it. 

You’re more desperate to be fucked than you thought you were— such is the result of your husband’s negligence. 

Sylvain threads a hand through your hair as you wrap one of your hands around the base of his cock, and he bites his lip when you press a gentle kiss to the tip of his length. “That’s a good girl,” he praises with a groan as you swirl your tongue around the tip. You’re trying to gauge what Sylvain likes, as you’re sure his desires differ from your husband’s, but he’s already rewarding you with praise just from having his cock kissed that you figure he’s happy with simply having you here like this with him. 

Just the sight of you, dressed only in an apron, perched so obediently on your knees and kissing his cock is enough to make him come, and he knows it’ll take everything he has to not come in the next few seconds. Nobody could blame him, though— how is he supposed to hold back when a cute little housewife, wearing nothing but an apron, is sucking on his cock so eagerly?

“Fuck, do that again,” Sylvain grunts when you swipe your tongue quickly over the slit of his cock, lapping at the beads of precum forming on the tip. You oblige, since you want to do what he likes, flicking your tongue along the tip of his cock as he tightens his grip on your hair. “Good girl, fuck, you’re so good for me.” 

The praise has you moaning, and you wonder if there’s anything better than being praised for your performance since your husband never bothered to. Luckily for you, Sylvain lays the praise on thick, showering you with filthy words and compliments as you suck his cock eagerly. You gasp around his length when his hips thrust forward to shove himself deeper in your mouth, and you suck a sharp breath in through your nose and relax your jaw as much as you can as he slowly begins to facefuck you. 

“That’s it, _God,”_ Sylvain groans, tugging on your hair and rolling his hips slowly against your lips. He takes care to avoid shoving the entire length of his cock in your mouth, as he knows you have absolutely zero experience with deepthroating, and instead settles for sliding half of his cock in and out of your mouth slowly. 

Despite all rational thought and better judgement, you _want_ him to use you in that way, forcefully shoving his cock down your throat and commanding you to swallow all of his release and to not spill a single drop. The thought of him using you so lewdly sends shivers down your spine and heat pooling in the pit of your tummy, and you allow your eyes to flutter shut as your lover continues to pound half of his cock into your mouth. 

His grip on the back of your head is firm, and you continue to moan around his cock as he fucks your face gently, glancing down at you with lidded eyes and a lazy smirk on his lips. 

“That’s a good girl, sucking my cock like that,” he praises with a hearty groan, and you whimper around his cock at the praise. “Such a good mouth. You suck cock like a porn star.”

He lays the praise on thick; not that you mind, of course, because you _want_ him to tell you you’re doing a good job. Maybe it’s all you’ve ever wanted, seeing as your husband doesn’t praise your performance much. 

You squeeze your eyes shut tighter and put all of your will into suppressing your gag reflex, because while Sylvain is far from down your throat, the tip of his cock teases at the back of your mouth with each thrust. One of your hands slips between your legs under the skirt of your apron, and it’s an action that certainly doesn’t go unnoticed by Sylvain. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he groans. “So depraved for me. Such a _needy_ little housewife, touching herself while she gets her mouth fucked. Does your husband know you’re this filthy?”

You whimper and your hand stutters as you work at your clit with two of your fingers, and you’re so embarrassed by how wet you are just from having Sylvain use your mouth like a cheap toy. 

“Don’t stop,” he says, and his breaths are so labored that he’s beginning to struggle with his words. “Play with yourself, baby, touch yourself while you suck my cock.” 

Sylvain throws his head back and groans low and deep in his throat, and he slides his hips back to pull his cock out of your mouth with a wet pop. He wraps one hand around his cock and jerks himself off in front of your face, leaving you to watch helplessly with your fingers between your legs. 

Though you’d never tell him, lest you want to face his surely never-ending teasing, you had wanted Sylvain to finish in your mouth, and the realization alone has you embarrassed. You’re _married_ to someone else, and somehow, here you are, showing Sylvain how depraved and desperate you truly are under your loyal, loving housewife façade. 

“You’re so beautiful, God, you’re perfect,” Sylvain groans, and his cock twitches in his hand as he finishes, staining your face with his cum. “So fucking sexy, you’re my girl now, aren’t you?”

He’s not exactly looking for an answer because he already knows it without you saying it. Sylvain’s cum splatters all across your cheeks and your forehead, and you’re sure to scold him later for getting so much of it in your hair, but all you can focus on right now is your impossible desire to just have him inside of you already, fucking you until you couldn’t even dream of being able to walk tomorrow. 

Sylvain lets go of his cock and sighs with a chuckle, admiring the mess he’s made of your face. “You look good like this,” he praises, running a hand through your hair. “You look good with my cum all over your face. Maybe we should take a picture and send it to your husband, huh?”

“ _Don’t,_ ” you whimper, and Sylvain chuckles. 

“I’m just kidding,” he says, offering a hand to help you to your feet. “Let’s get you wiped off then take this to your room, alright?”

You nod— a little too eagerly, you figure, since Sylvain chuckles with amusement at your response. 

After a quick detour to the restroom to wipe Sylvain’s cum off your face and comb out as much of it out of your hair as you can, you and him are back in your room to defile the bed you share with your husband once more. “On your back on the bed for me, beautiful,” Sylvain says, discarding his shirt. “I want you to show me how you touch yourself when your husband’s gone.”

You glance at him, dumbfounded and embarrassed by his request. He only meets your gaze with an expectant glance, egging you on with a smirk that shouldn’t be as arousing as it is. “C’mon, show me. I want to see how you touch yourself when your husband’s off on some trip and you’re all pent up.” 

“Sylvain, that’s a little…” you mumble, sliding your hands down your body, apron long gone. You know you could really stop him if you truly felt uncomfortable with anything he asks of you, but you’re just embarrassed rather than unwilling. Touching yourself in front of someone else is _entirely_ different than touching yourself in private, but if Sylvain wants to see it, you figure there’s no harm in trying something new. 

“You can do it, baby,” he soothes you, and his gaze almost borders on needy. “I want to see how you get off when your husband’s gone. Do you satisfy yourself better than he satisfies you?” You don’t say anything because you don’t think he’s really looking for an answer, and you instead focus on trying to make yourself comfortable under Sylvain’s burning stare. 

“Tell me,” he says, and you let out a little moan when he steps forward to cup your pussy in one hand. 

“Yes, I do,” you whimper, hips rolling forward to try and grind yourself against his palm. “I can make myself feel better than he makes me.” 

Sylvain chuckles breathily, and he’s so turned on he can barely stay standing. “Poor thing. You fuck yourself better than your husband fucks you?” You nod, moaning Sylvain’s name desperately when he ever-so-slightly grinds his palm against your pussy. 

“Show me,” he says again, pulling his hand away and grabbing one of your wrists with it. He guides your hand down to rest on your lower stomach before he takes his hand away, leaving you to do as he asks and show him. “Show me how you touch yourself, baby.” 

You’ve done this plenty of times before during your sleepless nights when your husband’s either working late or out of town, so with all the practiced confidence of a sexually-frustrated housewife, you slide your hand to rest between your parted legs. You just barely brush your index finger over your clit and it has your hips rolling against your own hand, and you figure that being watched is more than enough to make you more sensitive than usual. 

Sylvain watches your every movement with perverted calculation, licking his lips at the sight of you slowly circling your aching clit with your fingers. You can’t even look down at your hand, let alone at _him_ , so you instead opt to turn your head to the side and squeeze your eyes shut. It’s an action that has Sylvain swooning over how _cute_ you are when you’re embarrassed for him. 

“You’re beautiful,” he praises, reaching down to loosely wrap his hand around the base of his cock. “There’s no need to be embarrassed, sweetheart. You’re so sexy.” 

Your hips jerk at his praise, and you let out a soft whimper at the contact against your fingers. You rub at your clit and bite your lip to hold back as many of your sounds as you can, your entire body shivering with need. Sylvain jerks himself off slowly in time with the movements of your fingers, and he lets out a groan when your other hand moves to pinch and pull at one of your nipples. 

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he groans. “You like that? You like playing with your tits while you touch yourself?”

You nod, bottom lip pulled between your teeth. Your hips are shaking so desperately against your hand as you pick up the pace, rubbing faster circles on your clit for Sylvain. Your entire body is standing on end, nerves hypersensitive as you continue to work your body the same way you do when you’re desperate and horny while your husband’s away. 

“Finger yourself,” Sylvain says, and you would consider it a command if his voice was just slightly sharper. You oblige, slowly dipping the fingertips of your index and middle finger into your pussy, and you’re beyond embarrassed with how wet you are from him already. He’s hardly touched you, and yet you’re _soaked_ from sucking him off and touching yourself in front of him. 

“That’s it,” he praises, and you can hear the sound of skin slapping against skin as he jerks himself off slowly right alongside you. “You look so wet, baby, does having me watch you touch yourself turn you on?”

You nod, and Sylvain groans when you shove your fingers in as far as you can. They’re not as long or as thick as Sylvain’s, and you find yourself wishing that it was him fingering you instead.

“You’re so beautiful,” Sylvain groans, grinning when your hips stutter. You love being praised so _much;_ it’s so cute. “Good girl, keep touching yourself for me. Can you look at me?”

Shyly, you turn your head and open your eyes to look at him, and his gaze is so heated it makes you shiver. Eyes half-lidded and hazy as he watches you grind your hips on your fingers, bottom lip pulled between his teeth as he smirks at you, and flushed cheeks that more than attest to how turned on he is by the scene before him. 

“Please fuck me already,” you beg pathetically, spreading your legs wider to show yourself off more in hopes it’ll spur him to act. “Please, Sylvain, I need it so bad.”

Chuckling breathlessly, Sylvain licks his lips. “Make yourself come, then I’ll fuck you. But I _really_ want to watch you get yourself off first, so come for me, alright?”

You swallow thickly and nod frantically, pulling your fingers out of you so you can swipe them over your clit just the way you like it. Your other hand continues to pinch and tug on your nipples, and there’s nothing you wouldn’t give to have Sylvain’s mouth and his fingers on them instead right now. 

“Good girl,” he purrs as you work faster at your clit, rubbing your fingers over the sensitive bud quickly. You really, _really_ like being called that. 

Sylvain steps forward and places his hands on the inside of your knees, pushing your legs further apart and staring down at you. You whimper in protest at the new position, as you’re completely and totally exposed to his gaze (as if you weren’t already) with how spread your legs are, baring every last inch of you to his leering gaze as you touch yourself for him. 

“What’s the matter?” he hums, letting out a groan when he catches sight of just how _wet_ you are. “You’re so cute, I couldn’t resist wanting a better view. You’re perfect, baby, don’t stop, keep touching yourself for me. You’re such a good girl, so good, so well-behaved.” 

His praise pushes you over the edge, and with a yelp of his name, you’re coming, hips thrashing against your hand as you continue to rub shaky circles into your clit. Sylvain watches devilishly as you come for him on your own fingers, and he’s so desperate to be inside of you he’s struggling to keep himself upright. 

“Good girl,” he repeats, voice low. “Feels good?”

You nod, head thrown back and hips arched up off the sheets. Sylvain reaches down to clutch your wrist when he notices your hand and hips stilling, signifying that you’ve since come down from your high. He brings your hand to his mouth, and you blush deeper and make an embarrassed squeak when he takes your fingers into his mouth, licking your release off your fingers. He groans at the taste as his tongue licks between your fingers, collecting every last drop of your taste he can. 

“Please,” you whimper, prompting Sylvain to release your fingers from his mouth and look at you. 

“Please what, angel?” he asks, but he already knows what you want. How could he not?

“Put it in,” you pant. “I need you, Sylvain, I can’t wait anymore.” 

He hums thoughtfully, and you almost punch him with how _mean_ he’s being, teasing you so incessantly in spite of your need. “I don’t know, sweetheart,” he muses, rubbing soft circles into your inner thighs. “Do you think you’ve earned it?”

“ _Yes!”_ you cry. “Please, Sylvain, I need it!”

“You’re so eager, it’s so fucking hot,” he groans, and to your delight, he pulls you to the edge of your bed. “Such a bad wife; you’re such a slut.” 

You don’t protest; you don’t care to. Sylvain presses his hands to the underside of your thighs and bends your legs back towards your body so you’re practically bent in half, knees pressed against your breasts and pussy bared for him. 

Sylvain rubs his cock through your folds, and you melt right then and there as he digs the tip of his cock into your clit, and it’s still sensitive from your orgasm, eliciting a pitiful moan from you. “So wet,” he muses with a delighted chuckle, and he’s not sure how much longer he can tease you because he’s so hard and so desperate it almost hurts. He really does just _adore_ giving you a hard time, though, because your reactions are so cute it drives him mad. 

Finally, _finally_ , he sinks his cock inside of you, filling you up in one smooth thrust. You’re so soaked he slides in with ease despite his girth, and you let out a shaky moan as his cock reaches deep inside of you. It reaches deeper than your fingers, deeper than his fingers, _deeper than your husband's cock._

“Moaning like that just from me putting it in?” Sylvain teases, digging his fingernails into the plump skin of your thighs. “You’re such a bad girl. What would your husband say if he saw you like this? What would he say if he saw his sweet, pretty little wife being so _filthy?”_

You only respond with a moan as he gives you a quick thrust, and he reaches so deep in you it makes your mind spin and your toes curl. “We could always show him,” Sylvain continues. “We could record you getting fucked by me, moaning my name and squirting all over my cock. I bet he’s a freak who’d get off to that, you know.” 

“Don’t say that about him,” you whine mindlessly, but you don’t really mean it. You find it hard to care what Sylvain says about your husband when he treats you and fucks you far better than your husband does. Besides, you’re not much better— you’re the horniest you’ve ever been in your life from having adulterous sex with your best friend. In your defense, Sylvain’s getting off on fucking a married housewife just as much as you are from being fucked by someone other than your husband.

“Why not? I bet he’d _love_ it,” Sylvain laughs. “I bet he’d love seeing his pretty little wife take another guy’s cock. He’d just _love_ watching his wife get fucked by a cock bigger than that tiny, pathetic cock of his.” 

You squeeze up even tighter around Sylvain’s cock at that, eliciting a groan from him. You _like_ this; you _like_ being talked to like this. “I’ll keep fucking you even once he’s back from his trip,” he muses. “Who knows? Maybe he’ll walk in on us one day. Maybe he’ll come home, expecting his gorgeous little wife to be waiting for him with dinner prepared, and instead she’s riding her best friend’s cock on the bed he shares with you.” 

You gasp and whine at the thought. Rationally, you know that the consequences of getting caught having sex with Sylvain would be irreversible, but you’re far too aroused to think about anything but the sheer _thrill_ of having sex with Sylvain while your husband’s on his way home from work. Sylvain continues to pound into your aching pussy as he talks, and how he’s able to form sentences so fluidly despite his lust is beyond you. Moaning out Sylvain’s name like a prayer, you toss your head back against the bed and squeeze your eyes shut. He doesn’t stop, he continues to run his mouth as he slams his cock into your cunt, making you cry out with each thrust of his delicious length. 

“God, that’d be so hot,” Sylvain groans. “Maybe I’ll fill you up with my cum before he gets home so you’re greeting him with my cum dripping down your thighs under those cute little skirts you wear. You’d like that, right? You’d like getting creampied by me before you go out to kiss your husband hello and ask him how his day was?”

You stutter over your reply, and you want to say that you’d _hate_ it, that you’d _hate_ being so cruel to your husband behind his back, but the damage has already been done. 

You’d _love_ that.

“Yes, I’d like that,” you whimper, crying out his name again when he gives you a particularly deep thrust. 

“That’s what I thought,” Sylvain groans, slamming into your needy pussy even harder. “Good girl.”

You’re getting fucked so good you’re on the verge of tears, teardrops dotting your eyelashes even through your closed eyes. With each delicious thrust of Sylvain’s thick cock, his hips rub against your clit, and it has your mind spinning and legs shaking in his grip. “You’re so beautiful,” he groans, and you wonder how he can find you beautiful when you look as wrecked as you do now. “Fuck, I love you. You’re so tight and so wet for me, you take my cock so well.” 

“Sylvain, please,” you whimper helplessly, body thrashing when he moves one hand off your thigh to rub at your clit. It’s far too much to bear; his rough thrusts paired with his assault on your overstimulated clit, and it’s no surprise that you’re coming so quickly. 

“That’s it,” he praises. “That’s it, baby. Come for me, baby. Come on my cock, fuck, squirt all over my cock; I love it.” 

And you do— your body’s squirting on his cock, and you whimper out a pathetically weak “no, don’t look” because you’ve never squirted before. Not on your own, and not with your husband. Your husband’s never made you squirt once, and Sylvain’s here making you squirt like it’s the easiest thing he’s ever done. 

Sylvain watches with filthy amusement, and his cock twitches desperately inside of you as he watches you squirt, juices coating your inner thighs, his thighs, and the sheets below you. He’s never seen anything so hot in his entire life, and he’s quick to follow your lead, coming inside of your pussy as his cock twitches against your walls. 

You moan out his name as he fills you up, cum flooding your pussy as he continues to thrust into you. You’re so tight around him that you can feel every twitch and throb of his cock as he spurts his release into you, giving you every last drop he can. He’s grunting your name under his breath as he fills you, making an absolute mess of you— well, making an even bigger mess of you, seeing as you’re already beyond wrecked because of and for him. 

Once you’ve both sufficiently finished, Sylvain pulls out, chuckling when his cum begins to drip out of you. Despite how hard he just came, he’s still hard, cock throbbing with the need to be back inside of you again. 

“Can you handle another round, beautiful?” he asks, but you look so spent he’s not sure if you can. 

You swallow and glance up at him, cheeks stained with tears. “Please,” you beg. “I want to ride you. I need more, Sylvain, I need you more.” 

He groans at that; despite how utterly spent and exhausted you must be, you’re still begging for his cock. The libido of a sexually-frustrated, demure little housewife is a formidable rival for his own insane libido. 

You shift positions (and move further up the bed to a drier part of the sheets) so Sylvain’s on his back, cock standing at full attention as you straddle his thighs. Your knees are shaky; you’re absolutely beyond spent, but you know Sylvain will help you as you ride him. You’re still too aroused to stop now, despite your weak knees’ and shaky hands’ protests. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he praises, settling his hands on your hips as you line up the tip of his cock with your dripping pussy. You’re an absolute _mess_ down there between your own arousal, the remnants of your squirting, and Sylvain’s cum, but he doesn’t mind at all. In fact, he’s _really_ into it— there’s truly nothing hotter than making a mess out of you. 

You sink your hips down onto his cock slowly, and he lets out an approving grunt at how good you take him despite the exhaustion in your muscles. “That’s good, _fuck_ ,” Sylvain groans, thrusting his hips up into you to meet the movements of your hips halfway. “So tight, God, I love it. Ride me, baby.” 

You place your hands on his chest to help steady yourself as you ride him, hips slapping down against his own with each movement of your pelvis. Sylvain continues to thrust up into you to help you out, as he knows you’re far too tired to take all the work into your own hands. Besides, it’s cute how you whimper with each thrust of his cock when he arches his hips, so it’s a win on all fronts. 

“Feels good? It’s not too much?” he asks, and the genuine concern despite his arousal has your heart squeezing in your chest. 

You nod. “Feels so good, I love it, I can’t get enough of it,” you whimper, eliciting a smirk from your lover. 

“Guess I’ll have to fuck you harder then, huh?” he teases. “Give it to you hard and fast, just the way you like it, slut.”

His affectionate little nickname for you sends a shiver down your spine and causes your hips to stutter along his cock, and Sylvain chuckles. You’re so receptive to everything he says, whether he’s praising you or degrading you, and it’s just so _cute_ he can hardly bear it. 

One of his hands slides across your stomach to dip between your thighs, and you whine when he slowly runs his thumb around your clit. It’s so sensitive, _too_ sensitive, and the light contact has you shivering. You know you won’t last long, but that’s alright, because Sylvain won’t either. 

“Can you give me one more, beautiful?” he asks. “Can you come for me one more time? Come on, baby, come for me again. Just one more time. You can do it for me.” 

“ _No_ ,” you whimper, because you’re so spent you’re sure your body would melt into a puddle if you were to come again. 

“ _Yes,_ ” he mirrors, pressing you to come for him again. “You can do it. I know you can, you can come for me again. Give me just one more, alright?” Whimpering his name, you put every last ounce of strength you can into your hips, which proves to be a daunting task given your exhaustion. 

“That’s it,” he praises. “Ride me, baby. Come for me.” 

Sylvain's fingers continue to tease at your clit; fast enough to get you off, but slow enough to not overstimulate you to the point of an unsatisfying pain. He thrusts his thick cock up into you, pushing as deep as he can in an effort to get you off as he toys with your clit. You’re close, he _knows_ you’re close with how tight you’re squeezing around him and how clumsy the movements of your hips are getting, and you’re pushed over the edge with one more whisper of “good girl” from Sylvain. 

You press your hips flat against his as you come, aided by Sylvain’s fingers swirling around your clit. Your cunt squeezes up around him, and Sylvain makes no effort to hold himself back or stave off his own orgasm. There’s significantly less than his last few loads, as he’s ejaculated twice already tonight, but he still fills you up with everything he has to offer, coming into you as you tighten up around him. 

“Okay, now I _really_ can’t handle any more,” you whimper with a breathless laugh, allowing yourself to collapse down onto Sylvain’s chest. He wastes no time in wrapping his arms around you and kissing the top of your head, chuckling in agreement. 

“I never thought I’d say this, but me neither,” he says, throat dry and voice hoarse. 

He shifts to slide his cock out of you, and only then does it hit you how _messy_ you are. Cheeks stained with dried tears, hair affright, body covered in sweat, and that’s not even touching upon the mess on your inner thighs. 

“Bath again?” Sylvain asks, feeling just as unkempt as you do. “Gotta get you all cleaned up and change the sheets. I wasn’t actually expecting you to squirt, but hey, I’m not complaining.”

“Shut up,” you mumble. “It’s embarrassing. I’ve never done that before.”

“You haven’t?” Sylvain asks, both amused and incredulous. “Shit, you’re so hot. Fucked so good you squirted, huh?”

You make an exasperated groan, and Sylvain chuckles again and turns to look at you. “Say, when does your husband get back?” he asks. 

“Five in the evening on Tuesday,” you reply. “Why?”

“Perfect,” is all he says, offering you a devious smile. “I’ll see you at four, then. Pick out your cutest skirt, alright?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for joining me on seakicker's descent into netorare madness! writing ntr dirty talk is addicting OTL
> 
> maybe if im feeling particularly slutty ill write a 3rd chapter w sylvain following up on his promise of creampieing you while your husband's on the way home, but don't hold ur breath it's just a little idea i have in the way back of my mind
> 
> add me on discord: forsake not thy faith#9182

**Author's Note:**

> also, i am now on tumblr! hit me up anytime at seakicker.tumblr.com <3 askbox is always open!


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